


12 Parsecs in Heaven

by chaotic_nutria



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Anonymous Sex, Blow Jobs, Daddy Kink, Face-Fucking, Facials, Filthy, Glory Hole, M/M, Party Bottom!Poe, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Sorry Not Sorry, like really filthy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 04:24:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6037945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaotic_nutria/pseuds/chaotic_nutria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Han Solo heads to the seedy basement under Maz Kanata's castle for some quick relief and finds a familiar face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	12 Parsecs in Heaven

Whoever's behind the wall must've just gotten covered in something, some kind of weird slime, and still smells like it. Airflow between stalls isn't great, but through the 15 centimeter hole in the thin brick wall (wider than it needs to be for a his purposes, sure, but it's not just humans who come around here) Han Solo gets a whiff of something tart and astringent with a heavy salt-mineral afterburn. He sniffs, shrugs it off, makes sure the latch on the door is shut, and undoes his belt.

The guy in the next stall still seems game enough, though, regardless of what (or who) just came before. Han hears him spitting and what sounds like the guy wiping his mouth on a leather jacket sleeve before that mouth appears at the hole in the wall. The lighting is dim, just some flickering lasers and a slight amount of starlight filtering through the high, grated windows into this dank labyrinthine basement. Han can make out a strong square jaw, human, dotted in dark stubble, friction reddened lips still wet with sour-sweet pearlescent white. The man on the other side gives a rakish grin and a smooch to the air as an invitation, which Han accepts.

Han's older than he has been, less quick in a lot of circumstances, but this kind of thing always gets him hard, fast. He's been dropping by the back basement at Maz Kanata's for ages, since before, during, and after his life with Leia. To the degree that he talks about it all, which isn't much, he talks it up as the best cruising spot in the galaxy: quick, discreet, just scuzzy enough, just safe enough (Maz herself has been known to barrel through the halls and forcibly eject anyone starting trouble, and she keeps a med droid at the exit to cure you of anything you just picked up.) Most importantly, Maz's back basement offers reliably phenomenal head whenever you need it. Lately, with the Guavian Death Gang on his tail and his smuggling debts in the stratosphere, Han's been needing it a lot. 

Let's see if this new guy here makes the cut, Han thinks as he eases his cock toward those still-slick lips. Something about the set of the teeth in that crooked smile rings a bell, though he's all but sure he's never seen him here before. And lord, he's definitely never felt him before: lips moving with a slow hunger, soft, strong pressure, tongue undulating, and then that throat, open and welcoming but tight on his head. Han lets out a sigh as he bottoms out, balls against the slime-slick but unshaven scruff of the chin, all thought and tension draining out of him. This, this he could get used to. 

The man on the other side moans with Han's cock still down his throat, deep and masculine but expressive, almost melodic, and it reverberates around Han something wonderful. Han begins to move, bracing himself against the wall, thrusting forward, slow at first but with increasing speed.

There's an intimacy to the other man's technique. There's almost a love to it, a tenderness, a desperation to give pleasure. That careful attention, and those moans--hardly discreet in their loudness, buzzing along the length of Han's cock and echoing against the brick walls and probably down the corridor--they drive Han out of his mind. He feels an orgasm welling up sooner than he'd expected, thinks about slowing down to keep this feeling going, then decides against it, hammering against the wall and into the heavenly moaning vacuum of the man's mouth. 

Han gives a grunt of warning and the mouth's off his cock, replaced by a sure, pumping hand and a tongue running speed trials across the taut skin of his balls. He comes hard, sees stars, and revels in the sound of what must be the man dabbing the come off his face and licking it from his fingers. 

 

Upstairs, later, Han cools off with a drink at the bar, some cold, straw-colored grain alcohol Maz recommends to him with a wink. 

"Had fun?" she asks.

"Always do," Han answers, as he always does.

Down the bar he spots a youngish guy, disheveled dark hair, distressed leather jacket, sipping a bottle of something and talking to a small group, scruffy, rangy, Resistance pilots undoubtedly.

"Isn't that Shara Bey's kid?" he asks Maz, who is polishing some elaborate glassware behind the bar, nodding in the group's direction.

"Poe Dameron? I believe it is, yes."

"Huh," Han grunts in a non-response.

"Grew up cute, didn't he?" Maz says in a conspiratorial stage whisper. 

Han shrugs and downs the rest of his drink in another non-answer, but Maz is right. Those open brown eyes, body language strong but kind, that rakish grin...huh, indeed.

As Han passes the pilots on his way out of the cantina, his nose catches that sharp, tart, astringent smell from an hour ago, mixed with a note of a scent all too familiar. Those warm brown eyes lock with his for a moment. Poe gives another soft kiss to the air in Han's direction before he turns back to Snap Wexley with loud, full-body laugh.

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for this actually came to me in a dream (!?) But yeah, Han definitely seems like the kind of older guy who'd frequent gloryholes, and I'm sure they don't call Poe "daring" just for his flying techniques. I'm all about stormpilot, but pre- Finn and Poe meeting you know Poe was getting up to some shit. Also super into the implication that Poe spends a couple hours taking all-comers in the dungeon and then meets up with his co-workers at the bar and entertains them with stories of his exploits.


End file.
